


This Will Bite You In the Ass

by Nebulad



Series: To Live Without Fear [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Pre-Trespasser, break-up, mutual break-up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 11:17:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6801547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebulad/pseuds/Nebulad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas was quiet for a while, then laughed. “I love you.”</p><p>“Fuck off.”</p><p>“I plan to,” he said and she huffed. “I just do not want to leave without telling you. Some things are going to happen that may… call my feelings into question. I just want you to know beforehand that everything we had together was real. It was… all very, <i>very</i> real.”</p><p>“And you thought it was what? A dream?” she asked.</p><p>“I have had worse dreams.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Will Bite You In the Ass

Saevin leaned on her staff heavily, looking down at the weird smear mark that Corypheus had left on the already pretty broken platform. “Fuck this,” she declared, turning to her companions— Dorian was brushing dust off of his robes with shaking fingers but an otherwise untroubled face, Sera was backed up against a large chunk of debris with her chest still heaving in terror, and Solas was… looking for something.

A nearby crowd of soldiers rushed up but seemed wary of stepping on the platform— good. She didn’t want to deal with the Andrastians for a good week, didn’t want to have to talk them all down again from _glory be to the Herald of Andraste!_ She wasn’t their fucking god and she didn’t want to be— she wanted to succeed where Ameridan had failed and bow out of this shit gracefully.

“Saevin—” Solas’ voice was choked and she jumped, spinning around to face him still digging through the rubble. She kneeled down and began to help him, though she didn’t really know what he was looking for.

“Are you all right?” she asked, pushing aside a large piece that crumbled under her fingers.

“The orb,” he said, his voice sounding as close to tears as she’d ever heard it. “The orb he was using _where is it?_ You had it for a moment—”

“I… there was this blast of magic coming from it so I just—” She’d used the power resonating in the mark to propel it upwards as hard as she could, hoping that it would be caught up by the wildly unstable magical field surrounding the tear in the sky causing it to overload and collapse. It was… one of her better plans, honestly, considering she’d made it up the second the artifact had come into her possession.

 _“It had to land,”_ he snapped and she froze. “It had to have landed, it would not have been caught up in the field— it could not _exist_ outside of this realm, it had to be—” He stopped, his eyes falling on… what was left of the artifact. It sat completely still in three neat little pieces, the red glow of it faded like a blown-out candle. Saevin crouched beside him.

“Found it,” she said, perhaps a little insensitively. He _was_ acting strangely though and she wasn’t in the mood for tact after he’d snapped at her immediately following a large and difficult battle that she’d damn well _won._

 _“No.”_ His voice actually cracked and she worried that his skull had as well.

“Solas, talk to me here—”

“It… it’s ruined.”

“It is, but the sky is in one piece so I’ll count this as a win.”

“This artifact is entirely nonfunctional,” he snapped, and she raised her eyebrows.

“Considering the _function_ it’s been serving for the past few years, I can’t really say I’m sad to hear it,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. She’d had just about enough of the blame train she seemed to constantly be an unwilling passenger on— every time something went wrong it was _her_ fault. _If they wanted someone with a clue what they were fucking doing, they should have looked a little harder._ She was blamed for the mages joining the Inquisition, as if everyone would have been happier with the Templars. She was blamed for exiling the Grey Wardens, as if everyone had decided to ignore the fact that they had all just been enthralled by Corypheus because _someone had told them it was best._ She was blamed for Orlais’ turbulent politics, as if everything Gaspard did wrong could be attributed to her…

She would not be blamed for destroying the artifact. She had done it and it was done and if they didn’t like her decisions they could elect a new fucking Inquisitor.

Solas’ shoulders slumped and she felt a stab of pity. She settled down next to him and tentatively reached out to touch the cold corpse of the orb. It was perfectly smooth, like it was made of glass, with only the vaguest traces of magic on it at all. It was an empty temple that once held too many people, and now split in three was empty and full of the garbage they’d left behind.

“You should go on ahead,” he said quietly.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind waiting up,” she replied, keeping her tone just as soft as his.

“I only want to… look around a little. See if there aren’t more pieces.”

“I’ll help.”

“The Inquisition had need of its leader right now. Celebrate and leave me to my sulking,” he tried, even summoning a false half-smile for her.

“Fuck the Inquisition,” she said plainly.

“Saevin—”

“If you want me to leave because you don’t plan on coming back then _Mythal’enaste_ could you just fucking say so?” she demanded sharply. He turned his head from her and didn’t respond. “Or could you tell me _why?_ Is it because I broke the orb? Or because of whatever I did before that made you break up with me? Or is it just that the Inquisition’s over and you can move on with your life now that you’ve proved to everyone how smart you are? You swooped in like some miracle, an elf and a mage with an extensive knowledge of the Fade, now you don’t want to be arsed with hanging around?”

He was quiet for a while, then laughed. “I love you.”

“Fuck off.”

“I plan to,” he said and she huffed. “I just do not want to leave without telling you. Some things are going to happen that may… call my feelings into question. I just want you to know beforehand that everything we had together was real. It was… all very, _very_ real.”

“And you thought it was what? A dream?” she asked.

“I have had worse dreams.”

“You’re doing that _vague_ thing again and it makes me want to crash this dumbass castle all over again,” she said tersely. He settled back to sit, sighing deeply and rubbing his eyes. She sat down beside him, rolling her shoulders but otherwise refusing to relax.

“I… Saevin I have lived _years…_ I apologize, this is all very overwhelming,” he said, shaking his head. She waited. “I have not felt _real_ for a very long time— it is a natural consequence of being who I am, and being as attached to the Fade as I am. Time and place become largely irrelevant, absolutely meaningless, and now… with the orb destroyed and with _you,_ I am experiencing an uncomfortable wash of reality that is unfamiliar and… _terrifying.”_

Saevin waited for another moment but it seemed that he was finished. “Why me?” she asked.

“I have never been so unable to predict or control another person in my life. Everyone has their own limits and boundaries, passions and rages. Take King Alistair— I have barely met the man but I could be comfortable in my predictions of his behaviour because he is predictable. He is sensitive about his heritage and largely insecure on his throne— not literally, but in his head he will always be at the Landsmeet while the Hero of Ferelden shoves him into his new role.

“Dorian, on the other hand, I know well, and I know that Tevinter is a sensitive topic that will not prompt a rational response from him. He is insecure and hides it behind a thick coat of bravado, and he is desperate for validation and attention and so disgusted with himself for being so that he purposely tries to disappoint people to get a negative reaction.” His voice was so matter-of-fact that it was kind of creepy. _“You,_ I could not begin to predict. Every time I tried to pin you down you did something that surprised me and I was forced to start all over again. Every rhythm I found within you was disrupted almost as soon as I noticed it.”

“Is that a compliment?” she asked.

“Now? Yes. At first, it made me want to… well, I suppose I am predictable as well. You have never prompted a rational response from me,” he said with a fond smile. She stared back evenly, wondering what his goal was. He’d said he was leaving, so what did he hope to achieve by playing with her like this? _Maybe for once he doesn’t have a hidden agenda. Maybe he’s just genuinely bad with relationships._

“Watch it now. You’re threatening a war hero,” she warned, straightening up. Her _antaam-saar_ was stained with blood, but none of it was her own— mostly dragon blood, which sort of pleased her. From an elvhen bandit in the desert to someone whose clothes were stained with the blood of dragons. She could almost live with it if Andraste would hop off for a while.

“I am not, yet,” he said, and that was certainly fucking ominous but she didn’t ask. He wouldn’t tell her so there was no point except to waste her breath. She inhaled deeply and hauled herself all the way to her feet, letting her hair down and shaking it out.

“Well, have a nice trip I guess. See you at the next international incident,” she said, saluting lazily. He stared at her hard and she let him because… it was his own weird thing. He was memorizing her and she would never claim to understand why he did any of the things he chose to, but she’d let him.

“You are more correct than you think,” he told her just as she turned her back to him.

“ _Elgar’nan_ would you stop with the fucking _vague_ thing?” she demanded, turning back around.

He was gone.

“Well that’s probably not good,” she mumbled to herself, peering around walls just to make sure. She’d forgotten about the assembled crowd until she heard Sera yelling for her.

“Let’s _go_ Sae, Josie got food,” the archer insisted, scrambling up from the stairs and grabbing her arm. “Where’s Messere No-Fun?”

“Who fucking knows?” she asked. She had a life to return to, if she so chose. She didn’t have to wait for him anymore, didn’t have to watch and long and pine anymore.

So she didn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> Boom. We've come full circle from my multi-fic Solavellan to my mutual Solavellan break-up fic. As you may or may not know, depending on whether or not you've been to my work section, after this Saevin returns to her Clan, is traded to become Keeper in a different Clan, and hooks up with Abelas. Because I can work with the bad attitudes of side characters better than a character specifically designed to be as big of a cock to Lavellan as possible, apparently. Like to be honest just talk to her. She's a rival warlord and your fucking gf just fucking talk to her smfh.
> 
> [My writing blog is here](http://nebulaad.tumblr.com) for some hot n ready content.


End file.
